


staycations and stolen jerseys

by palmsxieri



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, also is nolan wearing underwear?, ft. the jersey slide and a donut, this is legit just fluff and maybe the single best line i’ve ever written in a fic before, you’ll see just trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsxieri/pseuds/palmsxieri
Summary: Carter’s gaze drags slowly up from the floor. Nolan’s wearing his jersey, Hart 79 strewn across his back. And it’s big enough where he can’t tell if Nolan’s wearing shorts. Or underwear.
Relationships: Carter Hart/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 23
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi yes if you or someone you know is in this fic (read: work of fiction) please click away before i combust, thank you.
> 
> thanks to jazz for cheering me on and for coming up with this title!

It’s fucking sad, really, how beat up Carter feels about his injury. And like, he knows he’s lucky it isn’t worse. And he also knows that if he played through it, he’d injure himself even more.  _ And,  _ Nolan would be pissed if he put himself through more pain than necessary. 

_ “I will fucking kill you if you don’t give yourself time to rest,” Nolan had growled out when he got word of Carter’s lower body injury. “Please, don’t push yourself too hard.” _

And really, how could he say no to Nolan. Nolan and his dumb smile and his dumb face and his dumb rosy cheeks. Carter is  _ smitten. _

He grouches his whole way to his eval with the team trainers, because seriously, no one wants to have your lower  _ extremities _ prodded at by latex gloves. Nolan’s having one of his days; the blackout curtains were drawn and he was wearing a sleep mask, so Carter let him be and went on his own. 

He almost misses the exit and has to do a full-blown Jersey Slide to get across the highway, and whoever said driving in Philly wasn’t hard could go eat a dick. 

_ “You know,” Nolan had said a few days ago, before Carter hurt himself. “If you ever find yourself in a situation where playing would hurt you, or cause you mental stress or anything like that, I don’t want you to grit your teeth and keep pushing yourself just because the team needs you. It just… I know it doesn’t end well.”  _

_ “What brings this up?” Carter asks after a few moments of silence, tapping his finger on his ankle.  _

_ “I just know it doesn’t end well,” Nolan mumbles, flushing. “I’ve done it for all my life and I’m pretty sure this,” he makes a gesture to his head, “is my form of karma.”  _

_ Carter presses his lips to Nolan’s hairline, inhaling and smelling the clean scent of his shampoo. “I don’t think it’s karma, maybe it’s more of a wakeup call. You know, to let you know that stuff is gonna get better.”  _

_ “It’s like that whole theory thing. Like, things can’t stay really good or really bad forever, they always meet back in the middle.” _

_ That makes Carter smile as he pushes his cheek against Nolan’s forehead. “I love you, Nols.” _

The trainer doesn’t push and prod too hard at his extremities, which is a plus, and he decides to call it quits and just take the four to six weeks before he gives himself an aneurysm trying to convince the entirety of the staff (and himself) that he’s fine. Plus, if he had the aneurysm, he’d be out for way longer than four to six weeks. 

And finally, because Carter is a nice fucking boyfriend, he gets Nolan a donut when he buys himself lunch. He’s so far in his pit of love for Nolan, it’s pathetic.

The door is unlocked when he gets home, and there’s soft music playing, presumably from one of Nolan’s weird meditation sessions. He doesn’t put his keys down and he sets the donut on the counter extremely quietly, licking a bit of frosting off of his thumb. The bedroom door shuts and his head peers up, meeting the gaze of one of Nolan’s eight thousand snapbacks. 

“Hey,” Nolan says, looking up from his (very dim) phone. 

Carter’s gaze drags slowly up from the floor. Nolan’s wearing his jersey,  _ Hart 79 _ strewn across his back. And it’s big enough where he can’t tell if Nolan’s wearing shorts. Or underwear. 

“That isn’t yours,” he smirks, stepping into Nolan’s personal space. Carter knocks the stupid hat off Nolan’s head and cards his hands through his curls, stopping at the nape of his neck. 

“No, but  _ I’m  _ yours,” Nolan says, smiling, and wraps his arms around Carter’s shoulders. “How did the eval go?” 

“Pretty well,” Carter answers, losing himself a little in Nolan’s eyes. “I brought you a donut.” 

“Ooh!” Nolan says, delighted. He pats Carter’s chest and slips by him, speed walking to the kitchen. “Plain, my favorite.” 

“You’re  _ boring _ ,” Carter whines fondly. 

“You’re the life of this relationship, honey,” Nolan teases around a mouthful of donut. “I’m here to keep you in check.” 

“True,” Carter muses, kissing the bridge of his nose. “Have I ever told you that you look sexy in my jersey? Because you do.” 

“I don’t think you have,” Nolan smirks, licking the donut crumbs off his fingers. “You could tell me some more, though. Keep talking.” 

He pats his hands clean and grabs Carter’s hand, dragging him to their bedroom. 

Carter is trying  _ really _ hard to figure out if Nolan’s wearing underwear. 

“Yes, I’m wearing underwear,” Nolan says flatly, pushing him on the bed. He straddles Carter’s hips, running his hands down Carter’s shoulders. 

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Carter says sheepishly. 

“I know,” Nolan smiles. “That’s why I’m giving you shit. Jesus, do I have to be the smart one in the relationship too?” 

“Shut up,” Carter mumbles, and Nolan kisses him then, so really, he’ll count that as a win. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This would be a lot easier if you weren’t wearing underwear,” Carter grumps, groaning when Nolan shifts his weight in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> please don’t read this if you’re mentioned in it, i don’t want to dig my grave early

“This would be a lot easier if you weren’t wearing underwear,” Carter grumps, groaning when Nolan shifts his weight in his lap. 

“You’re literally wearing underwear  _ and  _ pants,” Nolan counters, grinding his hips down. “I think I win here.” 

“We’ll see,” Carter whispers, grabbing Nolan’s hips and flipping them over. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve imagined fucking you in my jersey but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.” 

Nolan gives a full body shudder and pushes his ass into Carter’s hips, so he’ll take it. 

He makes quick work of his own clothes and drags Nolan’s boxers off slowly, trailing the fabric with soft kisses. “Always eager, eh?” 

“Shut up,” Nolan mumbles, but he grips the sheets tighter. 

Carter shifts and grabs the lube that Nolan keeps on his table. “What are you thinking about, huh? You’ve got your thinking face on.” 

“Just happy that we’re together,” Nolan says, dopey. “Also, your dick looks nice. So like, if you could hurry up and put it in me, that’d be much appreciated.” 

Carter giggles, flipping the cap of the lube and squirting some directly onto Nolan. The taller man squirms. “That’s freezing, bitch.”

“Oops,” he replies, teasing a finger around Nolan’s rim, earning a sigh. “You’re so pretty. Always ready for it.”

Nolan groans, tilting his ass up. Carter slips his index finger in. He’s transfixed in the way that Nolan just takes his finger so easily. He tells Nolan as such.

“More,” Nolan grunts, hips rocking subconsciously. 

“Bossy,” Carter comments, yet he complies. His fingers are covered in lube; there’s barely any friction. 

“Stop fooling around,” Nolan says, sticking his face in a pillow. “Just fuck me already, jeez.” 

Carter  _ hmphs _ , blindly reaching for the condoms he knows are also on the table. He snatches one and tears it open with his teeth, slowly removing his fingers from Nolan’s body. 

“Shh,” he says when Nolan whines. He rolls the condom on quickly, patting Nolan’s hip. “Ready?” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Nolan breathes out, making Carter shiver. 

He pushes in slowly even though he knows Nolan can take it - it’s the little things, really. It draws a frustrated groan from him, and Carter smirks. 

He bottoms out and stays unmoving, gripping Nolan’s hips tightly. 

“Move,” Nolan groans, trying to move his hips and get friction. 

“Hmm,” Carter teases. “Maybe I should just stay like this, see how desperate you get.”

“No, please, just move,” Nolan whines, throwing his head back. “Please.” 

Carter knows he could drag this out, make Nolan really beg, but he’s just as on edge as the latter. He shifts his knees and pulls almost all the way out, and then slams his way back in. It earns a loud moan. 

“Fuck, so tight,” Carter groans, quickening his thrusts. “You love this, don’t you? Being bent over to my will?” 

Nolan cries out, reaching for his cock. 

“Nope,” Carter says, grabbing Nolan’s wrist. “You’re gonna have to go without that, baby.” 

He speeds up his pace and throws Nolan’s leg across his hip, cracking him open in ways he wasn’t before. He tangles their hands together and presses them into the bed, staring into Nolan’s eyes. 

“What do you think, do you deserve to come?” Carter asks, hearing Nolan’s breath hitch. 

He nods furiously, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

“Well,” Carter says. “Do it.” 

Nolan moans loudly - he’s honestly concerned the neighbors will hear - and comes, arching his back. His walls tighten around Carter and that’s it before he comes as well. 

“God,” Nolan says after a minute. 

“No, still Carter.” 

“Fuck off,” Nolan mumbles, but he’s smiling. He eases himself off Carter before trashing the condom.

“But then who would fuck you?” Carter pouts, laughing when he sees the outrage on Nolan’s face. 

“Go to sleep,” Nolan says drily, but he ends up laughing too, so.  Touché , bitch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t know what just happened either. 
> 
> comments fuel the writer :)


End file.
